Tim Kawakami: Joe Paterno’s firing by Penn State was deserved

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Joe Paterno and his, wife, Susan, stand on their porch to thank supporters gathered outside their home after John P. Surma, chairman and chief executive officer of the Penn State Board of Trustees, announced the firing of Paterno as head football coach and university president Graham Spanier amid the growing furor over how the school handled sex abuse allegations against an assistant coach, Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2011, in State College, Pa. (AP Photo/Gene J. Puskar)

Joe Paterno and his wife Susan stand on their porch to thank well-wishers gathered outside in State College, Pa., Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2011. The Penn State board of trustees fired Paterno as football coach earlier Wednesday. The board also fired university president Graham Spanier. (AP Photo/Gene J. Puskar)

Joe Paterno, center, and his wife, Susan, stand on their porch to thank well-wishers in State College, Pa.,Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2011. The Penn State board of trustees voted Wednesday night to fire Paterno and university president Graham Spanier amid the growing furor over how the school handled sex abuse allegations against an assistant coach. (AP Photo/Gene J. Puskar)

Joe Paterno deserved this fate, because he should’ve known better than to turn a blind eye to Jerry Sandusky.

Paterno had to know better. His whole remarkable coaching career has been based on being better. He was a role model. In college football, maybe he was the role model.

He had to do better. Because he didn’t, Paterno had to go.

And Wednesday night, the Penn State board of trustees announced that Paterno was out as coach, 46 years after he began.

All Paterno had to do was immediately alert police to Sandusky’s actions once child-abuse charges were raised, and to purge the former defensive coordinator from all association with the Penn State program if there was a hint of truth to the accusations.

Paterno didn’t have to be a football saint. Didn’t have to be the most ethical coach of all time. But the fact that he was considered these things makes the fall worse, and his inaction a greater failure.

To stop this, Paterno just had to be a leader, a father, an executive, and a man who knows what’s right. He was supposed to be that man, wasn’t he?

If Paterno had been any of those things, Sandusky would’ve been long gone from the Penn State program in 2002 or sooner, Sandusky’s work with an at-risk children’s charity would have ended, and Sandusky possibly would’ve been in jail years ago.

But Paterno chose another route: He decided that the program came first, and that he was the only man worthy of making the decision.

That’s why Paterno had to go now, immediately, ASAP. He could not be the Penn State football coach any longer, because he cannot be trusted to lead any longer. Can you imagine Paterno coaching in a bowl game in a few months? In the Rose Bowl?

For more than four decades at Penn State, Paterno has been, to many, the symbol of striving for higher ideals while playing quality football.

But if he had made it to the sidelines Saturday for Penn State’s game against Nebraska, Paterno would have been simply a man who decided his own legend was more important than the safety of several young boys.

When the moments arrived — when the security of the boys was at stake — Paterno looked away.

And the system he created made sure that if he looked away, the entirety of the Penn State hierarchy looked away, too.

Penn State looked away for the good of the school and program. For the good of Paterno’s career and legacy.

And nothing else mattered, apparently.

It was about Paterno’s victory total, which is now 409, the most of any coach in major college football history. It was about what the football team means to the university, to the community, and to the sport.

For Paterno and those surrounding him, until Wednesday night, that’s what mattered. For those in the Penn State community who were outraged by Paterno’s ouster, those emotions linger still.

But this is what really matters: Sandusky was charged with molesting eight young boys between 1994 and 2009 through his charitable foundation, The Second Mile.

What matters: Paterno was the only man at Penn State in position to stop this, and Paterno didn’t stop it.

If Paterno didn’t know about the early charges against Sandusky, he should’ve known. And once he knew for sure — in 2002 — Paterno, as the unofficial head of the Penn State Universe, had the choice to make.

Protect the institution or protect the children.

Paterno picked the institution, and his friend Sandusky.

In an attempt to control the endgame, Paterno announced earlier Wednesday that he will retire at the end of the season, and no sooner.

“This is a tragedy,” Paterno said in the Wednesday statement. “It is one of the great sorrows of my life. With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had done more.”

He didn’t do more, though. When a graduate assistant witnessed Sandusky in the shower with a boy in 2002, then told Paterno, it’s hard to imagine Paterno doing any less than he did.

This is what often happens with coaching legends at the end — they’re so engrossed in the program that when they get to the end, that’s all they know.

“My goals now are to keep my commitments to my players and staff and finish the season with dignity and determination,” Paterno’s statement read. “And then I will spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to help this University.”

Also Wednesday night, the Penn State board announced university president Graham Spanier was out.

The athletic director and vice president who oversaw the football team are under indictment for perjury during an investigation of Sandusky and are out of their jobs.

Paterno had to go, too. Because he was the man in charge. He was the institution. He created it. And the institution failed, to an extent so horrifying that it should make statues cry, too.